


And We Keep Meeting Again

by Sarixa



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Mainly Zemyx, Pocket Watches, Time Skips, Time Travel, Time Traveler!Zexion, Witch Curses, and the Axel/Roxas is mentioned in passing, the Axel/Demyx is very minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7872028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarixa/pseuds/Sarixa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zexion should've heeded the town warnings about dark forests. A witch bestows upon him a power, both a gift and a curse, to travel across time for the sake of seeking knowledge. But the power comes with limits and it isn't until he meets Demyx that Zexion realizes just how harsh his limitations are. (Zemyx)</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We Keep Meeting Again

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the KH Worlds Connected 2016 Fanfic/Fanart Collab Project!
> 
> My friend and amazing collab partner has posted a WIP of the beautiful art they're doing for this fic! You can see it [HERE!](https://kollapsar.tumblr.com/post/149628822711/the-universe-and-i-had-a-disagreement-over-whether)

Zexion was twelve when a witch cursed him.

Everyone had grown up with warning tales of the forbidden woods beyond the town. Newcomers and travelers were always advised to veer far away from the deep trees, lest they be lost to the untold creatures within. But the forest had called to him. He’d heard the voice in the wind. Books upon books had given him all that he needed to know, or so he assumed. If he could find the voice in the woods, he would be granted any one wish.

Zexion stumbled through the patch of trees, boots crunching in the snow. His large gray coat nearly caught on a branch behind him. It didn’t matter. He found the voice’s owner. A woman stood in the forest clearing, her skin pale and wild hair like red brick, falling in layers over her shoulders. A pair of glowing ice-blue eyes brightened when they saw him.

“What a curious child. Did no one tell you how dangerous curiosity can be? You wander into my domain and for what? Power? Answers? A wish?” The woman leaned impossibly far forward and smiled sweetly, lacing her fingers under her chin. Looking down, Zexion noticed her feet were almost off the ground, skirts billowing around her as if propelled by air that wasn’t actually blowing. “But I do _love_ curious children, stumbling where they don't belong… My, you are beautiful. Look at the shining light in your eyes! You love knowledge, don't you? I can tell. Is it more knowledge you seek?”

Zexion merely nodded, unsure if the woman could grant him his wish, as he’d so often read. After all, he was well past the age where fairy tales and handed-down legends held any _true_ merit. But he had come all this way seeking knowledge beyond his small town and there was something about this forest, something about this strange woman that felt ethereal, that felt… impossible.

“Knowledge unobtainable by ordinary means, beyond the small world you inhabit. My dear child, I see in you a thirst for knowledge that can never be quenched!” The woman straightened up with a shrill laugh, the force of it rustling the leaves around her. Zexion made no move, so as not to upset her. Whoever she was, she was more dangerous than he could comprehend. “Foolish, curious child, you know not what you _truly_ want. But I am not cruel. I will help you find it.”

Like a spirit, she moved around him, hovering several inches off the ground. Like a snake encircling its prey, she curled around him, eyes wide and leering, teeth bared and feral. If he made it out of the forest alive, his parents would surely confine him to his bed for eternity. “Yes, precious child, I will grant your wish. Knowledge of present, past, _and future_ . Knowledge of anywhere and any _when_. You only need seek it yourself, and I will grant you the ability to do so.” She placed her hands - surprisingly strong despite their delicate look - on his shoulders, and he should have tensed up, he should've been afraid, but he wasn't. Granted, he had never truly felt fear in all his life, not in the quiet little town, but a strange and still calm had settled in the air. His bones were lighter and his head felt weightless. Everything was warm and bright and his eyelids grew heavy with drowsiness.

“Hold out your hand,” she whispered in his ear. He obeyed. A small, cool object settled in his palm.

When he opened his eyes, the light was gone. His gaze fell upon an elegant gold pocket watch. It pulsed in his hand, matching the ticking time of a clock. Zexion clicked it open and was met with two separate watch faces. The right side was designed like a twenty-four hour watch, and had started ticking from the beginning. The left face looked more like a stopwatch, with the numbers one to six, though it didn’t seem to be moving.

“But as with any wish,” the woman began with a low, dark chuckle, and Zexion looked up, having almost forgotten she was there, “it comes with a few… conditions. _Six months_ your limit shall be, starting now. This watch will help you keep time, but once your six months are up, you will feel the pull of time and be forced to move on. You are free to choose where you go, backwards or forwards, _but_ you may not travel anytime within five years of where you leave. As all you seek is knowledge, that particular little detail shouldn’t matter to you anyway, correct?”

The woman pulled away, a low, building laughter falling from her lips. Her form became translucent, fading away into the mid-morning sunlight. “ _Six months, child._ _Time is your tool. May you find what you truly need._ ”

…

When Zexion walked back into town, all eyes were drawn to him. They knew when someone had received the touch of a witch - the air around them statically charged for a day or so after their return, the witch’s magic lingering on their skin. Zexion’s parents rushed to him when he made it home, checking for any signs of harm. He showed them the watch and repeated the witch’s words, their faces draining of all color.

For days, they tried anything and everything to destroy the watch. They threw it away, the watch reappearing in Zexion’s pocket moments later. They went to the blacksmith; his strongest tools couldn’t smash the watch. Not fire, nor acids, nor water would halt its ticking. Desperate, they traveled far and wide, seeking help.

By the time they returned home, Zexion had one week left. They spent every last second with him, prepared him as best they could for the future ahead of him, and, as his watch ticked the final few seconds, said their goodbyes.

…

Zexion returned to see them, only moments later for him, but five years later for them, and then again 5 years after that. Unable to stand the sadness in their eyes when they looked at him, he didn’t return a third time, deciding to use his power to see the world, to learn its history and its future.

…

He was nineteen when he stepped into the next millennium, having had quite enough of world wars and the like, hoping the year 2000 was a little more relaxed.

“DEMYX!!!”

A screaming mother. A boy. An automobile. Those were the details Zexion had time to take in before springing into action, darting onto the open road. He scooped the boy into his arms and rolled out of the way as the car drove past.

“Oh thank _goodness_!!! You saved my baby!”

“ _Mooooooooom_.” Disentangling himself from Zexion’s protective hold, the boy whined as he stood and dusted himself off. “M’not a baby!”

“You were nearly a road _pancake_ , I think I have a right to call you my baby!” The huffing mother bent over and held her hand out to Zexion, who took it, pulling himself up. “Thank you so much, young man, there must be _something_ I can do to repay you for saving my son’s life, anything, please, I won’t take no for an answer.”

Dusting himself off, Zexion could only blink in response, coming off the sudden adrenaline rush and caught off guard by the woman’s insistent gratitude. This could be of help to him. No matter where he went, he needed to find a place to stay, and it always helped to meet someone who could be something of a guide during his stay. “No need to thank me, madam, but I’d be grateful if you could direct me toward a hotel?”

“A hotel? Are you traveling? Surely not on your own! You’re just a boy yourself!”

Zexion bit back a retort. Even in the year 2000 he would still be called a boy. “Pardon me, madam, but I’m nineteen.”

The woman waved a hand, flushing in embarrassment. “Please, call me Ms. Sharon, none of this ‘madam’ stuff, though I do appreciate your manners. You’re so formal, so rare for a nineteen year old! You look like a sweet boy. Will you be in town long? Why don’t you stay in our guest room?”

Taken aback by the woman’s easy trust, Zexion raised his hands, shaking his head. “No, I couldn’t impose. Besides, I’m staying for six months, that’s much too long to stay in your home.”

“You just saved my _son_ , six months is nothing. Please, let me offer you our spare room. I’m sure your mother would prefer you stayed somewhere with a nice, warm bed and a homecooked meal than a cold hotel room.”

His mother was long dead by now, but the sentiment was nice and it would be a pleasant change from his routine of having to settle in potentially dirty hotel rooms. “Very well. Thank you, Ms. Sharon. My name is Zexion by the way.”

“Zexion. How nice to meet you! This is Demyx. Dem, say hi.”

The boy stepped forward and held out his hand, eyes sea-blue and bright, smile glittering wide. “Hi Zexion! I’m Demyx, I’m eight years old!”

Zexion accepted the small hand, giving it a gentle shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Demyx.”

…

As promised, his stay was comfortable, much more enjoyable than cold, lonely hotel rooms. Even Demyx’s somewhat frequent interruptions - the boy curious as to what Zexion was reading, asking Zexion if he wanted to play with him, sharing his snacks with the older boy - weren’t unwelcome. He hadn’t allowed himself to bond with anyone since he began his time travels, knowing he’d have to leave them behind. But while this mother and son more or less pushed their company on him, he didn’t fight it, remembering for the first time in a long time how nice it was to have something remotely like a family.

Of course, his stay couldn’t last.

“Do you really have to go?” Sharon asked as she pulled away from giving Zexion a big, motherly hug. “You’re welcome to stay. I’d hate to see you go off on your own again.”

Zexion nodded, offering Sharon a smile and a small bow of his head. “I’m afraid I must. I have my reasons, I hope you’ll understand, but I deeply appreciate all your kindness and hospitality.”

“Oh you, sweet and polite until the end. We’ll miss yo-”

“Don’t go!” Demyx launched himself at Zexion’s legs, hugging them tightly and catching Zexion off guard.

“Ah-... Demyx…” He placed a hand on the boy’s head, smiling gently. He would miss the cheerful little blond. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.” He’d given himself an hour, having anticipated a prolonged goodbye, grateful now that he’d taken it.

“Why nooot?”

Zexion pulled back and bent down to Demyx’s eye level, gaze apologetic. “That’s a secret. But…” He hesitated, unsure if he should make promises he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep. “Maybe we’ll see each other again someday.” He did like this time period, with its rapidly evolving technology and easy access to information, and he was all too eager to see what would change in 2005.

“Promise?”

“...Promise.”

And then, much to Zexion’s continued surprise - though considering the boy’s open and friendly personality, it wasn’t really _all_ that surprising - Demyx threw his small arms around him, hugging tightly. “M’gonna miss you.”

Zexion hugged back. “I’ll miss you too.”

…

It was mid-summer of 2005 and Zexion was relaxed against a park bench with a scientific magazine when a flying disc soared over his head, a red-haired boy - he had to be thirteen or fourteen - running after it.

“Axel, wait up!!!” A blond boy, likely the same age, came running after the redhead, stumbling to a halt when his gaze caught Zexion’s. “Whoa, wait. ... _Zexion_???”

It took Zexion a moment to recognize him. After all, he hadn’t known many blond boys. And Demyx _would_ be a teen by now. “Demyx?”

The boy’s face lit up, grin spreading from ear to ear. “You came back!”

Zexion smiled, setting the magazine down. “I did.”

Without warning, Demyx leaned over Zexion, hugging tightly. “Where are you staying? I bet mom would love to have you over again!”

“Oh, well, actually-”

“Dem? Who the heck are you hugging?” Demyx pulled back, Axel standing a foot away, confused.

“Oh! Sorry Ax!” Demyx gestured between the two, the grin never leaving his face. “Zexion, meet Axel. Axel, meet Zexion. Axel’s my best friend and Zexion saved my life when I was eight.”

“Whoa, whoa, he _saved your life_?”

“From a car. Then he stayed with me and mom for a while before he had to go.”

“...Dem, how have you _never_ told me that story?”

“Uhhh, it never came up?”

“Right. ...So, Zexion huh?”

…

Zexion wasn’t overly fond of Axel. The redhead had a penchant for setting off fireworks and throwing his discs - frisbees, Zexion learned they were called - around. Demyx, on the other hand, had apparently taken up music in the last five years and could play both piano and guitar, providing surprisingly pleasant background music whenever Zexion sat to read. As always, Zexion continued to devour information about the world and current events, stopping only when Demyx invited him out, despite his reservations about Axel.

They went to the beach often and Zexion was content to sit in the sand, reading from a pile of books and magazines.

“Hey!” Axel called out. “You really gonna just sit there and _read_ all day?”

Demyx replied before Zexion could even open his mouth. “Zexion’s a big history nut! It takes a lot to pull him away from his books.”

“Well that’s boring.”

Frowning, Zexion ignored him in favor of returning to his reading, deciding it was perhaps best not to argue with a thirteen-year-old, particularly one who likely wouldn’t hesitate to throw a frisbee at his head.

The exchange made Demyx laugh, looking over at Zexion with childish fondness. “Zexion, you haven’t changed one bit.”

Demyx had no idea how accurate that statement was.

…

“Leaving again?” Demyx pouted as he stood in the doorway of the guestroom, watching Zexion pack his few belongings.

Zexion paused to spare Demyx a glance, more than sure he had that apologetic smile on his face again. “I’m afraid so. My time here is almost up.” Only he knew how literal those words were. The pocketwatch was warm in his pocket, where it continued to pulse, ticking down to the time Zexion had to leave, willingly or not.

“But you’ll come back again, right?” Shuffling awkwardly, Demyx stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking hopeful. “Mom wants you back. And me… Me too.”

Once had been fine. He’d been able to get away with that. But how could Zexion return a third time, five years later, and be able to explain the fact that he hadn’t aged more than a day? They already thought he was nearly twenty-five, there was no way he could pass for thirty. Just thinking of crushing Demyx’s hopes like this was painful, but he simply couldn’t, in good conscience, lie and give the boy false hope. This, he remembered now, was the reason he’d never let himself get attached to anyone.

“...I don’t know.” Zexion sighed. “You and your mother have been good to me, I don’t want to break any promises. You both deserve better than that.”

Demyx’s gaze dropped to the carpet. “...M’kay, I understand.”

“But I can promise I won’t forget you.” Zexion finished packing and turned to find Demyx standing close. “Demyx?”

Just as his eight-year-old self had done before, Demyx threw his arms around Zexion, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you.”

And just as he’d done before, Zexion hugged back, repeating those same words, but meaning them more this time. “I’ll miss you too.”

…

The next stop for Zexion was late November 2010, in a city far enough away from where Demyx and his mother lived.

“Zexion?!”

Except he most certainly hadn’t anticipated Demyx going to college this far from home.

…

“So how've you been?” Demyx shoved a fry into his mouth.

“I've been well,” Zexion replied, internally debating what and how much information it would be safe to divulge. “And you?”

“Mm, pretty great! I'm studying over at RGU. Funny how we ran into each other, huh? Like it’s destiny or something. What brings you to Radiant Garden?”

“Traveling, as usual.”

“Still a big secret?” There was a wide, conspiratorial grin on his face, like they were sharing an inside joke, which, Zexion realized, they sort of were. It was such an odd thought. Inside jokes were something between friends and only now did Zexion realize Demyx was indeed a friend. His chest tightened. He hadn't had a friend since he'd been cursed. On top of that, now that they were as close in age as they probably ever would be again, Zexion found himself already dreading their inevitable goodbye in six months..

“But hey, um… Side note here. You look… I mean. You look exactly the same as you did five years ago. Like, _exactly_ exactly the same. You sure don't look, uhhh, you're what, thirty now?” Demyx tilted his head, scrutinizing sea-blue gaze boring holes into Zexion’s face and this was precisely what he'd been hoping to avoid. In a hushed voice, Demyx continued, “You're not secretly a vampire are you? I promise I won't tell.”

That made Zexion blink before a light, amused chuckle fell from his lips. “No, I’m not a vampire.”

Demyx pouted, his theory dashed, before smiling casually. “Well you look pretty damn good for thirty.”

For the first time in his life, Zexion felt his cheeks heat up, a new, strange sensation fluttering in his stomach at the compliment, at those deep and bright blue-green eyes looking him over. Words failed him. He wanted to tell Demyx he looked good too. Sure, his hairstyle was ridiculous - having gone from shaggy to a wild amalgamation of something straight out of the 1980’s, if Zexion remembered his history correctly - and yet it oddly suited him, drawing attention to his lively aqua eyes.

But before Zexion could even attempt at a response, a voice interrupted.

“Jeez, Dem, I thought we were meeting at the fountain.”

And there was Axel in all his red-haired glory, mane rivaling a lion’s now. He slunk into the booth, beside Demyx. “So who are you talking to any-whoa, Zexion???”

Resisting the urge to sigh, Zexion nodded in greeting. “Axel. I take it you’re studying here as well?”

“Yeah. Don’t fuckin laugh, okay? But I’m taking Dance. Secret passion of mine.”

“He’s pretty good!” Demyx amended.

While Zexion didn’t laugh, he did quirk an eyebrow, trying to picture the tall, lanky redhead as a dancer. What a strange image.

“Hey, it’s not as crazy as Demyx.” Axel gestured with his thumb at the boy beside him. “This one’s going for _both_ Marine Biology _and_ Music Production. It’s a wonder he has any time for anything, much less me.”

Pouting, Demyx playfully elbowed him. “Jerk, you love me and you know it.”

“Mm, maybe.” Axel stole a fry from Demyx’s plate, immediately getting his hand slapped for it.

“Get your own fries!”

Axel stood with a laugh. “Fine, fine, I’m starving anyway.” Before leaving, he bent to press a kiss to Demyx’s lips, grinning afterward. “Triple chocolate milkshake to share?”

“You know it.”

Zexion was left staring at Demyx in shock, that weird feeling from earlier twisting into something else, something he wasn’t enjoying at all.

“Zexion? You okay?”

“...What was that?”

“Huh? Oh, heh… Probably should’ve mentioned Ax and I are dating now, huh?”

“... _Probably_.”

…

Demyx and Axel shared an apartment and Zexion quickly regretted agreeing to stay with them. He much would’ve preferred to _not_ spend these six months witnessing casual touches and kisses of varying intensities from the pair. All food soured in his mouth, all books lost their appeal. He found himself getting irrationally angry at small things, like the sound of Demyx’s laughter when Axel told a joke or that happy look in the blond’s eyes when he looked at the redhead.

“Sitting there reading again?”

And Zexion was _especially_ angry whenever Axel dared speak to him.

“You’re seriously no different, huh? It’s kinda weird, like we’re back on the beach five years ago. You haven’t changed one bit, in every sense of the word.”

“...I suppose.” Saying nothing else, Zexion continued reading. He couldn’t argue with Axel when he was thirteen and he couldn’t argue with him now that Demyx was dating him. His grip tightened on a page as he turned it, nearly ripping it.

“No offense, but I don’t get why Demyx is so fascinated by you. I don’t think he even realizes he is, but I swear, he has a look for you he doesn’t have for anyone else.”

Demyx was fascinated by him?

…

Demyx caught him sneaking out of the apartment. “So you’re just going to leave without saying goodbye?”

“It’s best this way.”

“Best for _who_ ?! Not for me! For you? I don’t believe that. I don’t _want_ to believe that. …We’re friends, aren’t we? ...Or do you not like me anymore?”

Zexion turned away, unable to stand Demyx’s look of betrayal. “Of course I do.” Of course he did, although he wasn’t sure how much.

“Why do you _always_ have to leave? Where do you _go_ ? Why do you only stay for six months? I know it’s a secret, but… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I just… I _hate_ it when you go…”

Zexion sighed, hand clenched around the watch in his pocket. The witch never did say he couldn’t tell anyone and that’s too crucial a rule to have left out if it were one. This was his only friend, practically begging for the truth. He owed him that much. Zexion turned around.

“I was cursed by a witch when I was twelve. I can travel anywhere in time I want, but I can only stay for six months and then I disappear. Wherever I go next has to be _at least_ either five years earlier or five years later, no less. This watch,” he paused, pulling the watch from his pocket to show Demyx, “tells me how long I have before I have to go.”

Demyx frowned as he examined the two watch faces. “So you have an hour left, right? Can we have dinner before you go? Just you and me?”

Zexion blinked, staring at him. “You believe me?”

“Why would you lie about this? ‘Sides, you’ve always seemed, I dunno, out of place. And you look-wait. You’re not thirty, are you?”

“I’m twenty, actually. Almost twenty-one.”

Demyx smiled, Zexion’s stomach flipping at the sight. “Sounds right. So, dinner?”

Zexion hesitated, but nodded.

“Great. And Zexion? Promise you’ll come see me in five years?”

…

It was summer 2016 and Zexion found Demyx on the blond’s hometown beach, while Demyx was visiting his mother. They walked along the shore, catching up on the last five years of Demyx’s life.

“...So how is Axel?”

“Huh? Oh! We broke up, actually.”

Zexion most certainly did _not_ jerk his head up at that revelation. “Oh?”

“Yeah, like um, two, three years ago? While he was working on his senior showcase, he met this Theatre major named Roxas. They really hit it off, like _really_ hit it off, and Axel felt like shit about it but I told him it was okay. When I saw them together, they just made _sense_.” There was a strange smile on Demyx’s face, like he was realizing something in that moment. “I think we were together more out of familiarity to be honest. We were best friends and we helped each other grow and experiment and shit. It was nice, but it wasn’t meant to last. He’s still with Roxas and I’ve never seen him happier. And he’s still my best friend of course. We all still hang out.”

As Zexion listened, he realized _he’d_ never been happier than he was right then, walking along the beach with Demyx - his friend who was attractive and smiling and still within his age range and _single_.

…

Three months later, at Demyx’s place, Demyx stared at Zexion for a good long minute before seriously asking, “Zexion, you said you were twenty last time, right? When do you turn twenty-one?”

Zexion blinked, thinking it over. “I’m not actually sure. Since I travel to different points in time at different points in any particular year, my actual birthdate is irrelevant. I only keep track of my age through the fact that I would’ve turned thirteen halfway through my first six-month trip, and then I simply add a year every other trip afterward. So, I should be turning twenty-one around this time.”

Demyx only continued to stare, making Zexion feel rather self-conscious, his cheeks growing warm.

“Demyx?”

Finally, the blond stood, holding his hand out, which Zexion eyed in confusion.

“Since you don’t know when it is, then let’s celebrate it today! I have a feeling you haven’t done that since you were cursed. Let me take you out for a birthday dinner.” The smile on Demyx’s face made Zexion falter.

“You…” Zexion sighed, smiling softly in return. “You’re making quite a habit of taking me out to dinner.”

Surely he imagined the blush that flashed across Demyx’s face. “Hey, you deserve to have a nice birthday for once! ‘Sides, you’re twenty-one, that’s a pretty big deal in today’s time! You can legally drink now! Plus, I’m finally older than you, so-... Oh wow, how weird is that? I’m three years older. I’ve always been younger. Huh... So, um, dinner?”

Deep down, Zexion knew that in three months he would have to leave again, and Demyx would be even older the next time they’d meet, but for now he let himself forget. For now, he’d let himself get lost in modern birthday celebrations and Demyx’s aqua eyes and bubbling laughter.

…

Two hours. Demyx had promised, _resolutely_ , to meet him at the park two hours ago. 

Zexion had less than five minutes left.

Demyx came running, stopping before Zexion to catch his breath, bent over and huffing for air.

Zexion stood from the bench with a sigh, features schooled into a neutral expression. It wouldn’t do to let Demyx see the ache in his chest. “You’re too late, Demyx.”

Demyx’s head shot up, eyes wide and fearful. “No, no, I can’t be! Not yet! Zexion, please!” He reached out, hand clasping tightly around Zexion’s wrist, misty eyes catching sight of the gold watch in Zexion’s other hand. “How much time _exactly_ do you have left?”

What did it matter? Anything said now would mean nothing once Zexion was gone. But despite the hurt and irritation, Zexion humored him, clicking the watch open. “Three minutes.”

“That’s enough.” Demyx pulled back, gaze pleading. “Zexion, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m really, _really_ sorry, I just… I couldn’t handle saying goodbye. Not _again_ . Not knowing I’d have to wait another _five years_ to see you again. But… But then I realized, I couldn’t just let you go without telling you how I feel. I couldn’t let you disappear without letting you _know_ . Sure, you’ll probably see me again in like five minutes, but I won’t see you for five _years_ and it’s gonna eat at me that whole time unless I tell you now.”

“Demyx-...” Zexion was frozen in place, unable to move, unable to respond any further. This couldn't be happening, not now with the seconds ticking away to their separation. Why had Demyx waited until _now_ to do this? It wasn't fair. Nothing about this spell had _ever_ been fair, but that unfairness had meant nothing until now, with his heart full and heavy.

“Zexion, I love you.” Warm hands cupped the sides of Zexion’s face. An autumn night breeze rustled their hair. There was a new resolve in Demyx’s eyes. In Zexion’s hand, the watch continued ticking.

Wasting no more of their precious time, Demyx leaned forward and kissed Zexion with all the desperation of someone who couldn't let go, lips molding to the other’s, breath hitching. Zexion returned the kiss in full, free hand clutching at Demyx’s shirt, needing him closer, needing an anchor to keep him grounded before time pulled him away once more.

They pulled away, out of breath, foreheads touching and hands finding each other’s, clasping together, fingers lacing.

“Demyx, I love you too, but-...” Zexion paused. Something was off. Looking down at the watch in his hand, he no longer felt the familiar pulsing he'd grown accustomed to since the witch had given it to him. He clicked it open, eyes widening when he saw the frozen hands, one second left.

“Zexion?” Demyx asked, concerned.

Zexion showed him the watch, explaining, surprised by his own breathlessness. “It stopped. Demyx, this watch has _never_ stopped. Not once in the nine years I've had it. It's always ticking, always counting down the six months I have left.”

“So what… What does that mean?” Demyx’s voice was soft, wary, barely above a whisper. His hand tightened its hold around Zexion’s. He was afraid to hope.

“I don't know.” And he truly didn’t know. The witch had given no other direction, no way out of his curse. Had he meant to find it himself? He could still remember her words, all these years later. ‘ _Foolish, curious child, you know not what you truly want, but I am not cruel, I will help you find it._ ’ He looked down at his hand in Demyx’s, heart light and head still spinning from both the kiss and the shock of his frozen watch. Was this what she had meant? Love? Demyx? “I should be gone now.” He looked up, cobalt eyes staring into hope-filled ocean-blue. “Demyx, _I’m still here_.”

Like a breaking dam, Demyx’s face split into a wide grin, the happiest Zexion was sure he’d ever seen the blond, and he wrapped his arms around Zexion’s waist, picking him up off the ground and spinning him around with a whooping cheer. “You’re still here!!!”

Any protests at being picked up and spun died in his throat, replaced by a cheerful laughter that only Demyx could pull from his lips. He couldn’t remember ever being this happy. The watch had stopped. He could stay, with _Demyx_ . Zexion could wake up the next day and Demyx would be there, beside him, smiling and laughing and talking about nothing and everything. They could grow old _together_.

“Demyx!”

“Hm?” Demyx stopped spinning and blinked at the amused man in his arms. “Oh! Heh, s-sorry, got carried away there.” Chuckling, he set Zexion down but didn’t let go, grinning still.

“No, not that.” A smirk tugged at Zexion’s lips. Taking Demyx’s confusion to his advantage, Zexion wrapped his arms around the blond’s neck and pulled him down for a new kiss, slow and lingering, taking the time to savor his taste. After all, they had all the time in the world for kisses now.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I described the watch well enough, but in case I didn't here are some references to help:
> 
> [For the 24-hr watch face.](http://www.webwatchworld.com/raketa-24-hour/raketa-24-hour-pocket-watch-white-a.jpg)
> 
> [For the 6-month watch face.](https://cdn.vectorstock.com/i/composite/72,93/stopwatch-vector-47293.jpg) (The highlighted section would be one month.)


End file.
